


Some of y’all have never worked in a restaurant and it shows

by xiamer



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Gen, M/M, e/R and c/c are pretty background, i don’t think it’s legal to drink tbh, i think Enjolras’ coffee order could probably kill someone ?, this is just what it’s like at my work tbh, this is the closest thing to fluff ill ever write probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25439539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiamer/pseuds/xiamer
Summary: This is basically just based off of the café that I actually work at, and it’s Les Amis all (except for Bossuet bc hes too clumsy) working at the Café Musain
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras & Les Amis de l'ABC, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Les Amis de l'ABC Friendship, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Some of y’all have never worked in a restaurant and it shows

**Author's Note:**

> hi !! sorry for not uploading that much recently, i had an 8 hours shift today (yesterday now ?) and i have a 7 hour one tomorrow, and another 8 hour one on Friday so yeahhh
> 
> not to offend anyone with that title, but everyone always makes their restaurant/café AUs so peaceful and nice
> 
> trust me, as someone who works in a restaurant rn and who grew up in the restaurant business, it is NOT calm
> 
> going into a walk-in freezer still triggers my fight to flight response honestly, 
> 
> also every specific thing that happened in this has happened to me (except im not the manager lol)
> 
> alright im going to SLEEP so see y’all later <3

Enjolras clocked in at 8:26; his shift didn’t start until 9. 

Somehow Courfeyrac knew this. The fact that he knew everyone’s shifts was public knowledge; however, how he knew everyone’s shifts was as good a guess as any. But Courfeyrac knew that Enjolras was working from 9 to closing, and decided at that moment to jump in from the backroom. 

“Oh man Jojo, do you just love it that much here that you’re half an hour early?”

“No,” Enjolras deadpanned, and walked away. 

As he dumped his phone and keys on the table, Enjolras could hear Courfeyrac squawking something to Combeferre; most likely about how and why he should be fired; there was also the sound of someone, or probably several people, cackling in the kitchen. 

Enjolras walked back to the front, where he saw Courfeyrac pouting and receiving a sympathetic shoulder pat from Conveferre, who looked anything but. There were no customers waiting, so Enjolras plucked a 32oz iced coffee container from the counter and began to make what was informally dubbed “The Enjolras”.

He readied the first two espresso shots and noticed that every employee was currently looking at him. Courfeyrac was still pouting; Combeferre looked mildly disapproving; Bahorel looked mildly amused; Feuilly was wrinkling his in anticipation of the smell; Grantaire blew Combeferre’s disappointment out of the water; just to be that extra amount of petty, Enjolras never broke eye contact the entire time that he filled the pump and brewed the shot. 

“That is honestly the most disgusting drink you could possibly make, like really Apollo,” Grantaire leaned over the window counter that separated the kitchen from the coffee area, “I’m surprised you can even fit that many espresso shots in a cup.”

“Eight shot 32oz iced latte with raspberry pumps,” Combeferre pondered, “is that actually even legal?”

“Probably not,” Enjolras shrugged, “but when has that ever stopped me from doing anything before?”

There was a general murmur that equated to “fair enough”, and everyone started about their business again, save for Grantaire who was still looking at Enjolras. 

“Oh like you’re one to judge M. ‘okay but how many apples is too many apples’.”

Grantaire raised his eyebrows. 

“That’s fair, but at the same time you don’t mix your drink so it’s just the red on top and the black on the bottom.”

“Red, a world about to dawn; black, the night that ends at last.”

And with that, all of the espresso shots were in, and Enjolras turned away to fill the cup with iced coffee, milk, and his raspberry shots, pointedly ignoring the looks of disgust he was getting. He snapped a lid on, out his straw in and flipped all of his coworkers off as he took a sip. Combeferre raised an amused eyebrow. 

“How’s that taste?”

“Absolutely disgusting, it’s perfect.”

“Why do you need so many espresso shots?” Feuilly flapped his hand in Enjolras' general direction, “your hearts going to stop before you’re even technically on shift.”

“I had a very late night, and a lot to do.”

All eyes turned to Grantaire, who smirked in response. 

“Not last night we didn’t. But just so you know, it is absolutely not Enjolras who is doing me-“

He was abruptly cut off by the phone ringing, and Enjolras practically dove to answer it. 

“Paris Musain Café, now can I help you?”

The voice on the other end was tinny and basically impossible to hear. 

“Hi, can I get a mixed greens salad?”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose and checked his watch- 8:43.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t serve lunch until 11:30.”

“Well can’t you put the order in anyways?”

“No, sorry. The button for the order on the register won’t show up until 11:30.”

“Would you just put it in?”

“Madame, I’m sorry, but I am physically unable to do what you want me to, but I can hand you off to my coworker-no I’m the manager- but I can give you to a coworker who might give you a better explanation.”

Enjolras handed the phone off to Combeferre and took a sip of his drink, making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat as he did. Combeferre sighed and hung up, putting the phone back on the receiver. 

“I really don’t know how to explain to people that we literally can’t do what they ask us to sometimes.”

Courfeyrac gave him a small peck of the cheek. 

“Awh it’s okay honey, at least you stay calm. Enjolras looks like he's about to have an aneurysm.”

“I just don’t get what’s so hard to understand about it!” Enjolras threw his hands up, “like lady, I physically cannot do what you want, please just believe me. Why is their first thought just ‘oh so you don’t want to serve me’. No! I want my workplace to make money but I genuinely don’t know what you want me to do when I say I can’t put in the order.”

Just as Enjolras ended his outburst, a small group of customers walked in. He put aside his drink as Courfeyrac took their order. 

One of them ordered a triple berry smoothie, so he went to the freezer and pulled out the cup of frozen fruit. Putting on gloves, he grabbed the blender, top, and a spatula. Enjolras tipped the container upside down, and squeezed the side to try and get the fruit out.

The fruit came out. 

But his thumb also broke through the container. 

Enjolras put his face in his hands and made a strangled noise in the back of his throat before putting his head up with a tight smile, staring at the shards of plastic surrounding his station. He sighed and threw them away, before grabbing the yoghurt and promptly dropped that on the floor. He looked around, wondering if Bossuet was somehow channeling his bad luck into Enjolras. 

Courfeyrac walked up behind him, a cup for iced coffee in his hand.

“You good?”

“That’s a loaded question.”

“Ah well, you’ll survive.”

Enjolras turned back to his blender, making sure all of the plastic was out of it, and blended all of the ingredients together. He poured it into a cup and handed it off to Courfeyrac. 

The rest of the morning passed by in relative peace. Jehan clocked in at 9, and so did Joly, who gave him a side eye over the coffee. 

At around 11, Jehan threw their hands up and angrily whispered, “if I have to make another açai bowl, someone’s going to die and it won’t be me.”

Needless to say, Joly took over from there.

At about 12:30, when there weren’t any customers coming in, and there wasn’t any backup on the orders, Courfeyrac skipped over to a register. 

“Laa-a-a-dies,” he said in a singsong tone, “it’s food time! Who wants what?”

They all took turns putting their orders in the system. Only Enjolras saved his for later. Instead, he went and grabbed a packet of oyster crackers.

“Holy FUCK those are stale,” he spit out into the trash, “have we been giving people those? That was just mush honestly.” 

Jehan giggled as Bahorel threw a new packet across the back, and into Enjolras’ face. 

“Those better, chief?”

“Yes actually, thank you Bahorel.”

Bahorel grinned and gave him a thumbs up. 

The phone rang, and Combeferre went to pick it up. They took at least five in person orders in the time that it took Combeferre to put in a single order. Joly glanced over in complete disbelief as the order went through. 

“Fucking Christ,” muttered Feuilly, “that’s basically the entire menu.”

And it was; probably about 15 items in total, which cost a little over €173, and also set all food to have about a 30-40 minute wait. 

Enjolras sighed wearily. 

Courfeyrac clocked out at 13:00, right as they finished the big order. He collected his amount for tips, blew a kiss to everyone, and walked out a free man. Enjolras noticed that everyone, including himself, stared after Courfeyrac longingly. 

Combeferre left at 14:00, leaving Enjolras, Jehan, and Joly to close at 15:00. 

And of course people wandered in at 14:54, ordering at least five things. Enjolras barely repressed a scream, as he went and started to make a caramel latte for what looked to be an eleven year old girl in designer clothes, with a debit card. 

Enjolras caught Grantaire’s eyes through the window from the kitchen, and saw an expression in his eyes that probably mirrored his own. He tried to smile, but he was sure it came out as a grimace, which at least made Grantaire laugh. 

Enjolras, leader of Les Amis de l’ABC loved people; he loved humanity. 

Enjolras, manager of the Café Musain, hated people and just wanted to get home before 16:40. 

No one seemed to understand that they closed at 15:00, and everyone decided they wanted to stay outside until 15:50, which was really just great. 

What was also great was that they were missing €85. 

It was just missing. 

Enjolras ran a hand through his hair. 

“Jehan what do you mean the total cash comes to €591? It’s supposed to be €676.”

“I know! But I counted three times and it’s still 591.”

Grantaire, having finished cleaning the kitchen, walked out to join them. 

Enjolras scrubbed both his hands over his face. 

“That’s a lot of money to just… not have.”

Grantaire poked him. 

“Have you checked that little bank that you had out front?”

He whipped around and saw the small black tin, his eyes lighting up, and rushed to go grab it and bring it over. 

“Grantaire this is the only time I will ever say this, so you had better revel in this praise, but you are a damn genius.”

Opening the cash box and counting, Enjolras found the exact amount of money that they were missing. 

“Oh thank god.”

Grantaire gave him a little hug. 

“I’m so proud of you Apollo, figuring out that money stays where you left it,” he held up a hand to stop the tirade that he knew was coming, “as much as I’d love to hear that, I’m going out to the car.”

Enjolras motioned to show that Jehan and Joly could go as well, as he turned and put all the cash back in the registers and made sure everything was in place for opening. 

Drawing the shades closed and locking the door, Enjolras walked out to the car where Grantaire was sitting in the driver’s seat. He slumped into the passenger side and barely managed to get his seatbelt on. 

“I told you that coffee was a bad idea,” Grantaire chuckled, “you’re going to be so-o-o miserable.”

“We should rename the café Les Misérables.”

“We absolutely should not.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> like it ? love it ? hate it ? im just glad you read it !
> 
> sorry if it skipped around, or was ooc but im tired and honestly just wanted to kinda rant with this 
> 
> i dont hate my job but god am i tired 
> 
> i am going to dedicate this to my absolutely wonderful manager amac because she’s the one who found the missing $85 today 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed ! 
> 
> (if you care about og works imma upload a new part soon ? if you don’t care then carry on citizen)
> 
> -el <3


End file.
